Poems eBook

Thy foes to hunt, thy enviers to strike down
Thy summer voice, Musketaquit
Thy trivial harp will never please
To and fro the Genius flies
To clothe the fiery thought
To transmute crime to wisdom, so to stem
Trees in groves
True Brahmin, in the morning meadows wet
Try the might the Muse affords
Two things thou shalt not long for, if thou love a
mind serene
Two well-assorted travellers use

Unbar the door, since thou the Opener art

Venus, when her son was lost

Was never form and never face
We are what we are made; each following day
We crossed Champlain to Keeseville with our friends
We love the venerable house
Well and wisely said the Greek
What all the books of ages paint, I have
What care I, so they stand the same
What central flowing forces, say
When all their blooms the meadows flaunt
When I was born
When success exalts thy lot
When the pine tosses its cones
When wrath and terror changed Jove’s regal port
Who gave thee, O Beauty
Who knows this or that? 375.
Who saw the hid beginnings
Who shall tell what did befall
Why did all manly gifts in Webster fail?
Why fear to die
Why lingerest thou, pale violet, to see the dying
year
Why should I keep holiday
Wilt thou seal up the avenues of ill?
Winters know
Wise and polite,—­and if I drew
Wisp and meteor nightly falling
With beams December planets dart
With the key of the secret he marches faster
Would you know what joy is hid

Yes, sometimes to the sorrow-stricken
You shall not be overbold
You shall not love me for what daily spends
Your picture smiles as first it smiled

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INDEX OF TITLES

[The titles in small capital letters are those of
the principal divisions of the work; those in lower
case are of single poems, or the subdivisions of long
poems.]